


A Different Kind of Desperate Souls

by giors1



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate take, F/F, One Shot, Pre-Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan, rewriting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 02:25:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/947502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giors1/pseuds/giors1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate take of the debate scene from the episode "Desperate Souls".<br/>Emma is going to reveal her truth and, also this time, it's something totally unexpected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Different Kind of Desperate Souls

**Author's Note:**

> Previously posted on Tumblr 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time or its characters.

_"You’re going to leave me, aren’t you?"_

Regina Mills’ words were still in her mind. 

The Town Hall had never been so crowded. Or at least, that’s what Emma Swan had been told by someone she’d accidentally met just outside that familiar place.

Emma Swan was someone who had never had a clear idea about the whole concept of “doing the right thing”, but when her mind recalled again that memory of the exact moment when she felt Regina’s arm around her shoulder, she knew that she wasn’t far from finding a proper answer.

It was Archie’s voice bringing her to reality. “…and Emma Swan”.

 

9pm. 

Debate.

Sheriff election.

 

Emma Swan walked towards the podium, asking herself once more why she had accepted to become a candidate. 

She took a deep breath, but this hadn’t helped her feel less panicked when countless pairs of eyes focused on her.

 

"You guys all know I have what they called a…uh, troubled past. But you’ve been able to overlook it because of the…hero thing. But here’s the thing…"

Emma had spent three days, an entire notebook and eleven bottles of non-alcoholic beer just to write something that could look like a speech, some words that could convince someone to vote for her. To choose her. Needless to say, results had been catastrophic and improvisation hadn’t  really been a great choice. 

"…what  _you_  all see today is a hero, standing in front of you”.

She could see Regina Mills. Fifth row. Totally uninterested by her words.

"I don’t have the definitive evidence, but I’m sure. And the worst part of all this was that I let you all think it was real. And I can’t win that way, I’m sorry…"

Not a single sound came from Storybrooke citizens, even if those eyes, full of dedication towards that blonde stranger,  _that Emma Swan_ , started to wander without a destination, around the little conference room.

 

"Today I’m not your hero. I’ve never been". Emma Swan took another deep breath and spoke again.

"And tomorrow I won’t be your sheriff".

 

_Did she just withdraw her candidacy?_

_“_ I’m just a woman, standing in front of you, Regina Mills, asking you to give me a chance…”

Suddenly, the only pair of eyes which weren’t interested in what Emma Swan was saying found themselves locked on that blonde figure.

"I may not be the hero of this town. I may not be the right person you’re all looking for…"

Emma’s voice, unexpectedly, wasn’t even quivering.

 

"What I’d like to do is to show you I can actually prepare a decent Club sandwich…" said the blonde, with a little smile.

At that point, everyone knew - also without the need to openly pronounce her name - that Regina Mills was the one Emma was talking to.

The only one.

 

"…or helping you finding out who’s your favorite Spice Girl…"

Emma’s smile went wider when she realized no one had the vaguest idea of what a Spice Girl actually was.

"…or I can simply take the rest of my life explaining why loving you, Regina Mills, is the rightest thing to do".

 

Regina’s soft smile was unexpected, tender and a bit shy, too. 

Emma didn’t need someone to vote for her, but eventually she found that she had been good enough to make someone chose her.

And before reaching that fifth row, with a brunette who didn’t know exactly what do do but standing up, waiting to be saved, Emma knew she didn’t need a yes.

 

She just took the microphone and said “And good luck to the new Sheriff, whoever will be”.


End file.
